The day my sister slipped away from her engagement party, she was certain Marshall Patton could never truly fall in love with me.

Confident in her belief, she left the country without hesitation, leaving me behind to hold her place and secure the title of Mrs. Patton in her stead.

I didn't cry or make a fuss. Instead, I played the part of the obedient stand-in, giving everyone the courtesy of maintaining appearances while I quietly bided my time.

Then, I poured every ounce of effort into making Marshall fall for me, bit by bit.

And when my sister finally returned, I made sure to walk away.

On my birthday, Marshall Patton drove me to a remote camping site in the mountains.

Tonight, there would be a once-in-fourteen-years red moon and a meteor shower that was said to grant wishes.

A few ladybugs flew onto my face, and I shrieked, clutching his hand tightly.

He instinctively flinched, but upon feeling the coldness of my hands, he pulled me into his arms.

In our five years of marriage, Marshall would give me anything the moment I asked for it.

A house, cars, luxury items—anything I wanted.

People would say they had never seen a man love his wife so much.

They spoke so confidently about him that a small part of me even started to hold out hope.

So, at my celebration party, fueled by a bit too much alcohol, I boldly leaned against Marshall's shoulder.

"This year, I want to spend my birthday with you. I don't want any parties. I just want you to be with me."

He froze, looking stunned, and it wasn't until the mood in the room turned awkward that he finally agreed.

I didn't have the energy to care if his tone was reluctant or resigned. My heart was full of joy as I eagerly waited for the night to fall.

But as soon as the sun set, his phone rang.

The signal in the mountains was weak, and all I could hear was the crackling of static, followed by a few sobs that sounded out of place.

"Marshall, I'm scared. Where is everyone?"

Crystal Payne's voice came through, amplified, and Marshall's face immediately hardened.

The signal cut off abruptly, the static disappearing, leaving only the sound of birds flapping their wings.

My hands grew cold again.

I reached out to tug at his sleeve, but he pulled away and lifted his phone high, searching for a signal.

I stood frozen in place as he frowned, dialing again, too absorbed to even look up and explain.

Sighing, I grabbed my coat and got into the car.

In the distance, I could just make out the faint twinkling of stars, but Marshall didn't care—he pressed down harder on the gas.

When we reached the base of the mountain, I stubbornly got out of the car and checked into the inn I had already booked.

Late that night, wrapped in my coat on the balcony, I finally got a signal on my phone, and my mother's calls started flooding in.

She had never called me before, not even that night when I had nearly died from the pain of a miscarriage in the hospital.

I stared at her name flashing on the screen, the ringtone cutting off after a minute, only for a new call to come through.

I answered, and sure enough, her voice filled the line, a mix of insults and tears.

"You couldn't even make a simple phone call to say that the party's off? Did you know she waited outside in the wind for two hours? If Marshall hadn't come, she would have collapsed. You know how fragile Crystal is!"

I stared up at the night sky, noticing the winding river of stars, and couldn't help but speak aloud.

"What are you so worried about, Mom? Even if she collapses, you'll just force me to donate my blood and my marrow to fix her."

The woman on the other end of the line was momentarily stunned by my words, then exploded in anger.

"We didn't starve you or deprive you of anything, did we? We raised you with everything we had. Why can't you just accept Crystal? Do you want her to be sick? Crystal gave Marshall to you; what more do you want from her to make you happy?"

Her voice was so full of conviction, turning all of Crystal's reckless actions into acts of desperation.

For years, I thought I had stopped being hurt by her favoritism.

But the love and care she expressed for Crystal in her words made me so jealous I almost cried.

Outside, I thought I saw a shooting star streak across the sky. I quickly closed my eyes, holding back my tears.

I flipped the phone over and made a sincere wish.

In this new year of life, I wanted all the love I could get.

When I opened my eyes, Marshall's message was at the top of my screen.

[Happy Birthday, Linette.]

I deleted the message and turned off my phone.

In this new year, I decided to keep my love for myself.

When I went to my friend at the law firm to help me draft the divorce papers, her eyes went wide with disbelief, just like when she found out I was marrying Marshall.

Back then, she asked, "Are you really sure about him? He's a total playboy, you know?"

Now, her question was different. She asked, "He treats you so well. Are you really sure about this?"

I thought it over carefully, then looked her in the eye and said, "It's just a divorce agreement. Better safe than sorry."

Five years ago, Marshall had turned down a match with someone from a well-established family. He boldly declared he'd give up everything to marry me, shocking everyone around us.

Because I was the one he wanted.

Not Crystal, my dazzling sister, who had shone at international cello competitions, but me. The second daughter of the Paynes, the one no one liked—neither my parents nor the men around me.

At first, people thought I was just a way for Marshall to get back at someone. After all, he'd introduced Crystal to the best professors, yet she quietly decided to go abroad without even discussing it with him.

But less than a month later, Marshall posted a picture of our marriage certificate and even got me a position at his company.

It was as if, overnight, the people who once looked down on me suddenly became friendly. Even my mother, who rarely paid attention to me, softened and helped me get ready for my wedding, personally styling my hair.

Back then, I thought maybe, after being overlooked for twenty years, I had finally caught someone's eye.

Even if the start wasn't ideal, I was willing to be brave—for once, just for myself.

I worked overtime, day and night, pushing myself to be as capable as him. I took charge at home, making sure his family couldn't find a single flaw.

The first time Marshall saw his usually critical mother—who had once swore at Crystal to the point of making her leave with anger—warmly hold my hand and refuse to let go, he stared at me, completely stunned, his face full of confusion and disbelief.

It was like, from that moment on, he realized I wasn't as weak and useless as the rumors made me out to be.

He started learning to accept me and even began to... love me.

He stopped being a playboy and started spending time with me, gardening and cooking. As long as he wasn't on a business trip, he'd always be home before midnight.

When I saw his car lights from a distance, I'd prepare a warm drink to help him recover from a long day.

And when he came through the door, he'd grab my hand, kiss the ring on my finger, and whisper in my ear, "I'm so tired today. I missed you."

That closeness made it too easy to fall.

He started treating me so well that I almost believed he was really in love with me. He was so thoughtful that I almost let my guard down and trusted him completely.

Then, a month ago, I received an anonymous text.

[You've worked hard these past five years, but next month, I'm coming back. Some things need to be returned to their rightful owner.]

[Isn't that right, Linette?]

Her tone was confident, almost smug. I felt dizzy, like the world spun around me.

Why was it that when she left for abroad, she could abandon everything and have others clean up after her, and now that my life was finally settling into place, she could just waltz back in and stir everything up?

[I'm happy with my life. I have no plans to divorce.

[Neither does Marshall.]

I gathered every ounce of courage I had before sending it. But she didn't even bother to reply. The silence that followed was deafening.

The next moment, I got a notification from the bank regarding a deposit of 2 million dollars from my husband, Marshall.

The note attached read, [Sorry].

In an instant, it felt like a bucket of ice-cold water was poured over me, snapping me awake.

Of course, without his approval, how would she be foolish enough to send a provocative message to my phone?

Just like Marshall, she valued her pride above everything else, so proud that she could boldly interfere in someone else's marriage without a second thought.

I turned off my phone and poured the warm drink down the kitchen drain.

Tonight, he wouldn't be coming home.

Five years... It was time for the dream to end.

I almost did fall for you, didn't I? That was close.